Mirrors
by Silent Searcher
Summary: Mirrors are repulsive things; made for the vain and ignorant. Kakashi can't take mirrors any longer. He can't take anything anymore. It's time he stopped being selfish. Set during the time-skip. **Rated M because I wanted to be safe.**
1. Mirrors

**Author's Note: Hey, I posted this yesterday but some of it got cut off.. Genius. As it should be evident, due to his frequent cameo appearances, I love Kakashi Hatake. I can relate to him so much more than people know or could ever comprehend. He is my idol and the main influence on how I live my life. I love him so much and was so HAPPY when he became Hokage. I will sourly miss him, now that Naruto is over. It only seemed right for him to be the focus of this tale. **

**Disclaimer: the brilliant Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto, not me.**

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Mirrors. Supposedly they reflect the true nature of whatever stands before it.

Lies.

It shows only one aspect of whatever stands in front of it: face value. If a flower were put before a mirror; an identical bloom would be reflected. But what is not shown are the odds faced by the bloom just so it could grow; nor does the mirror show the dispersed seeds from its stamen - the children from the parent. Moreover, the joy accompanying the exchange of the flower between lovers is also left unrecognised. A widow's tears invisible on the petals.

Mirrors can be deceived. A villain stands before a mirror - he appears simply as a man; his deeds rendered non-existent. A child is shown as a youth full of opportunity and promise - you cannot see that they starve; that their parents lie in their eternal slumber beneath simple foliage.

Mirrors cannot see the truth. An outstretched right hand appears on the left. A nearby object is far away. A smile conceals the sorrow within.

Mirrors are never lonely. Most things become duplicated: two eyes become four; ten fingers become twenty; one tear becomes hundreds.

When Kakashi looks in the mirror, he sees nothing. The reflection presented to him is empty, null, void. Even the face glaring back at him is empty and fake - nothing but a body and material; an eye and a mask.

No emotion; no resemblance to a person at all.

He is unnecessary.

He is unimportant.

He is expendable.

Mirrors hold no meaning for Kakashi; they are a reflective surface - a building material. But even though they mean nothing - see nothing - whenever he approaches one, he feels his chest constrict; his eye burn; his blood boil.

He has the nagging urge to punch mirrors.

He wants to break its surface - see the fragments fall like tears shed each night under cover of darkness.

To watch his blood trickle down his burst knuckles onto the shards; staining them - just as his worthless existence mars the world.

To wait and watch the glass be worn down and worn away by the wind - just as time has worn him away.

To see the vacant space left behind - just as he will be eradicated. Unknown. Forgotten.

He is worthless.

He is pointless.

He is lonely.

He wishes he were important. He wishes he were necessary. He wishes he amounted something to someone. But nay - he does not.

Many claim that he is valuable.

Many claim that he is needed.

Many claim that he is fortunate.

Those people can be partitioned into three groups:

1) Those who have only heard of his reputation.

2) Those who feel obliged to say such things via guilt.

3) Those who are emotionally confused.

The first group knew him by his clan; his father – the mighty White Fang. These people held high expectations for him. Expectations he cannot live up to.

The second group are those who have heard of his team. Of the deaths of his comrades and Sensei; of his dispersed students. They pity him and his tormenting knack for survival.

He felt a familiar chakra draw near: Gai.

Gai fell into the third category. He thought that he was Kakashi's friend and in a manner of speaking he was but that did nothing to halt the ever present emptiness from consuming Kakashi.

If anything; Gai made it worse: he was the prime example of what could be.

What _could_ be but wasn't - Kakashi was not Gai; as much as he sometimes wished he were.

He was jealous of Gai - his unending enthusiasm; his blossoming confidence; his ability to be who he was. Gai didn't hide. He wasn't scared. He wasn't Kakashi.

"Kakashi, are you alright, rival?"

Kakashi had to choke down his chuckles; or were they sobs? He didn't deserve to be anyone's 'rival' - least of all Gai's. A 'rival' was someone admirable, someone to aspire to be like. No one should aspire to be like Kakashi: he was scum. The only thing Kakashi rivalled was vermin.

"I'm okay, Gai."

Couldn't he see Kakashi was dying inside? Couldn't he see the hurt in his eyes? Couldn't he see Kakashi bite his lip to stop it from trembling? Of course he couldn't. Kakashi was by now an expert at appearing stoic and uncaring. He was so good that no one could even sense anything was wrong…

"No you're not."

…no one but Gai that is. He always had a talent for reading Kakashi like an open book. This was useful on missions but in everyday life it was hell. Kakashi wished he could wallow in his self-hatred but Gai always insisted on asking stupid questions or challenging him to a stupid contest. Kakashi couldn't thank Gai enough. Without him, Kakashi would have kicked the bucket years ago.

"Just leave it Gai."

He didn't want Gai to leave it. He wanted Gai to hold him; he wanted Gai to tell him it was okay; he wanted Gai to just be there. Kakashi wanted to be selfish. He knew he was scum and didn't deserve to even know someone such as Gai. But he needed Gai.

"I will not 'just leave it', Kakashi. I will not 'just leave' anything that concerns you."

Kakashi didn't know how much more he could handle. Gai was getting angry which was indisputable proof that Kakashi was scum. He hurt those who even went through the effort to delude themselves into thinking that they cared about Kakashi.

"It's nothing."

It wasn't 'nothing'. It was far from 'nothing'. Kakashi hated his own existence; the guilt burned his mind; blood scarred his hands. He had encountered so much death; so much destruction. And yet the only destruction he wanted never happened: why couldn't he just die?

"Don't think for a moment that I buy that. It is never 'nothing', Kakashi. Even if it were, I would still want to hear about it. Talk to me Kakashi, please."

He couldn't. Gai should know it's not that easy. You can't just talk to someone. People see things differently. People judge others. People don't care. Gai didn't mean what he said; no one ever did. So many promises are made yet so many are left unfulfilled. Kakashi never made promises.

"No Gai. I'm sorry but I just can't."

He was sorry for more than was implied. He was sorry he always insulted Gai. He was sorry he ever deterred the other from being the way he was. He was sorry his life had been tainted red by Kakashi's presence. Kakashi did the one thing he was good at: he ran. He turned away and sprinted in the hopes of escaping the inevitable breakdown he felt brewing. Gai didn't follow him. Gai never followed him; not when they spoke like they had.

* * *

He made it to his apartment, tears pouring down his face as they had so many times before. His mask was wet and clingy but he made himself suffer it – he deserved so much worse than a chafing mask. He curled up in the corner of his apartment, knees pulled up to his chest. He sat there and cried – like the pathetic wimp he was. Why was he so terrible? Why was he so ugly? Why was he alive?

He had tried to repent for his existence in so many ways: drawing his own blood, starving himself, depriving himself of sleep. Nothing was enough to satiate the gnawing remorse. As the tears kept falling he decided he had scarred the world long enough: he would do it. He would follow in the repugnant steps his father had felt compelled to take. He would end his life.

He gathered the things he would need. He tied the noose. He hung it from the stationary ceiling fan. He would leave no note; he had nothing to say. He wouldn't burden anyone with any last words. He wouldn't force people to mourn him. Not that they would anyway.

His insides twanged and his conscience screamed at him to reconsider. No, he was done being selfish. He was done burdening the world. He stepped up to the metaphorical gallows. Obito's Sharingan hummed edging him over the edge; it longed to be returned to its true owner – to be rid of the rodent it had been force into.

Unsurprisingly, Kakashi wimped out - in a moment of cowardice he decided to test his existence. If anyone contacted him in anyway in the next five minutes, he would continue living. If not then he had been right; painfully right. So the wait began….

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**Ok, so I am working on the endings to this - yes there will be TWO. There will undeniably be more Naruto Fan Fics on the way. Bye.**


	2. Ending of Man

**Author's Note: Okay, sorry for the really long delay. This is shorter than I thought it would be but I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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Menacingly, the clock hands ticked; the night otherwise silent – no one wandering the streets. No soul appeared to rescue the silver haired failure. Restless though he was he stayed seated on the edge of his bed. His eye wandered relentlessly; silently searching for a source of salvation; burning with the threat of tears. His eye lid was heavy with the expectation of eternal slumber. His leg jumped; jostling as he channelled his emotion through it into the floor below. His chest heaved; constricting in anticipation or fear. His lip quivered, yearning to scream or shout or sob. Minutes ticked by, the sands of time drained from the hourglass of life. Battle raged in his mind: one side wanting to live, the other fought to die.

Killing yourself is selfish.

Remaining alive is selfish.

Think of those you'll leave behind.

Think of those you've killed.

Ending it is cowardly.

Backing out now is cowardly.

To every thought the opposition had a retort. There would be no winning this war, for neither side would relent. If he lived, then his guilt would forever nag him. If he died, then all his conscience stated would come true.

Though he had no right to be shocked – Kakashi felt hollow as his assumptions were proved correct. He was worthless. No one cared. The self-imposed deadline passed with no interception. He couldn't help but feel a little hollow at the thought of no one caring: he had wanted to be proven wrong. He stepped up to his end with shaky movements. Knocking the chair from beneath him, he finished the deed; finished his life.

His last breaths dragged through his lungs. Silence echoed deafeningly. The room felt a million times larger than it was. His eye fluttered closed for the final time. His dying moments: lonely. No one was there to watch him die. Just as no one was there as he lived.

BANG!

The door ripped from its hinges. Worry etched on their face, the figure lunged into the apartment. Upon seeing the lifeless body dangling before him, Gai crumpled. Tears streamed down his angular face as he gazed at the friend he cherished. Why had he not seen the extent of his friend's pain? Why had he been so blind? So naïve had he been, believing Kakashi was fine and that he would pull through. He was such an idiot. He could not save his friend when he had needed him most. Kakashi was not one to take death lightly, always had he cherished life. Therefore Gai felt so pathetic for not helping his friend.

"I am so sorry my friend. I failed you." Standing slowly, his knees shook with grief. He plucked the silver haired man form his home-made gallows, laying him on the push carpet. Gai gripped the pale hand that was so unlike his calloused ones. Even in death, Kakashi was perfect in his eyes. His visible face was much less strained in death, as if the man had finally escaped the plagues and demons that had haunted him throughout his life. The dark haired man sat there for hours, clutching his dead friend's body as if it would bring him back. He was found in the morning by his students who had gone out looking for their Sensei. Kakashi's students were no where in sight, having left the silver haired man for new teachers. Gai only then realised how alone his friend had been. Too late.

* * *

The rain hammered down into the unsettled earth at his feet. He looked at the fresh grave, heart heavy. Yet another of those close to him lay to rest. Another empty void created in his heart. Another echo in his mind, of what could have been: preposterous premonitions of a stolen future. Why couldn't I save you? How could I not save you? Because I was too late. Because you were always the better of the two of us. Because you burned so bright, inevitably you would die first. He crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. All those years, I thought you were weaker than I. I was wrong; it was I who was weak. I could not live like you did; I could never hide my sorrow so deep as you did. I have learnt so much from you, my friend. You showed me not to fear the world but to embrace it and to live. Not just exist. Your sarcastic comments, your subtle presence, your contagious air of intelligence - changed me. Thank you. I am only sorry I could not tell you my feelings before. I do not know what I shall do with my days now you are not there to fill them. No more heated sparring sessions. No more youthful challenges. No more comforting annoyance that was you. I am so very lonely without you. I feel as though I will fall to pieces. I am hollow without you. I keep wishing that this is a dream; keep expecting you to make some dynamic entry. I keep hoping to see your hunched shoulders and blinding orange reading material again - to feel your arm wrap around my shoulders in comfort, lulling me into calm's sweet embrace. I keep longing to see you again. Alas, such dreams cannot become reality; because for them to occur would be selfish of me. You deserve your paradise, your Shangri-La, your spring meadow that you always deserved. Please wait for me in your home up high - I know you went to heaven - that is where angels live after all. Goodbye and good luck my angel, my rival, my Kakashi.


End file.
